Chapter 8:Wedding Night:Georges Du Roy and Lily Bart:Bel Ami and House of Mirth

Mapplethorpe

We both stand in the stateroom which is huge. There is a sitting room and two bedrooms on each side. One for Lily and one for me.

Louise Bourgeois - Hamlet and Ophelia

I tell Lily, “I have taken the entire deck for this level. I do not want you to have to meet or consider anyone but yourself. And me, of course. I promise you I won’t touch you. I shall begin to lay siege to your heart. I have laid siege  to your mind, your thoughts, your feelings to obtain your hand. Now I will do the same to win your heart. I will never, never touch you unless you desire me to do so. You still have all the power. I will not touch you without your desire.

“And I can promise you I will use all my charm, all my seductive ways to entice you to want me. I warn you, I will be relentless in possessing your heart. I know I can take you now by the contract we have agreed to, our marriage. But I want more than that. I want all of you. So I can wait for as long as possible for that to come about.”

I move in close to her and I see she is trembling. I reach out to finally touch that lock of her hair which is always escaping from the coil on the nape of her neck. I gently finger it, drawing it over my lips, kissing it, and then tenderly tucking it back in.

“There, now you are back with your sisters. I know you will twist away again to taunt me, to tease me, and you are lovely and charming, but for now please stay quiet.” I laugh and tell her, “That lovely lock of your hair has been beckoning me all this time, telling me to come hither, to touch, to fondle but I did not dare. Now that you are mine, I dare.”

I lightly touch her lips with my finger and outline them so softly she might almost not feel my touch, but I know it burns her and tingles long after I have stopped. I touch her face near her hairline and slowly draw my finger down her cheek and jaw line to her neck, and then I stop, catching my breath. She stares into my eyes, that never leave my face while I look at her.

“Listen Lily, I will not touch you tonight. I may come in later to watch you dream, but do not be afraid. If you lock your door, I will not break it down, although I will want to do so. If you leave your door open I may come in to watch you sleep. I know you are fatigued, so please, just relax, go to bed and rest. You are safe and secure now. No one can hurt you. No one can cause you distress. No one will be on this deck but us. We will have it all  to ourselves. Please, sleep well my darling. I will see you in the morning.

She looks at me in astonishment. She cannot believe I mean what I say.

I return to my room and undress for bed. Keeping the light on I get Madame Bovary from my suitcase to continue reading Flaubert. Perhaps the master will help me with this woman. Someone must. Slowly I enter the world of the book, until there is a soft knock on my door.

“May I come in?” she asks. I look at her standing there in a soft flowing diaphanous cream colored gown, her hair loose and wild, and I think, Dear god, what is she doing to me now?

“Of course.” And I continue to look at her. She who looks like an angel standing there ready to be slaughtered. I lower the light to make her more comfortable.

“I do not wish to sleep alone on my wedding night. I do not wish it.”

“What.” What does she mean?. I will be tortured all night now by her nearness.

“Please,” she says as she approaches the bed.

“Come, sit down,” I say, and she does. I start to breathe again. I turn on my side to face her and draw the covers around me to hide my desire from her.

“Do you remember the first time we met? How you took my hand and kissed it?”

“I remember,” I say.

“How you kissed it with your mouth open, and the tip of your tongue caressed my skin, soft as a shadow, so that I almost thought I was imagining it.”

“I do.” Where is she going with this?

“My skin burned from your touch.”

I look at her and say, “Immediately after I touched you I looked into your eyes and your pupils dilated. Your eyes were still open, friendly, polite. Your mouth warm, still smiling, polite, your face showing nothing but just the proper amount of friendliness, politeness.”

“I remember what you said,” she says.

“Yes,” I say. “Mademoiselle Bart, you are beautiful and incomparable, graceful and perfect. There has been no exaggeration of your loveliness. You still are by the way.”

“And I said, ‘Your exceeding charm has been greatly underestimated.’ I meant it too. I still do.”

I lean over and touch her hand, the same one. Instead of bringing it to my lips, I bend my head down to where it lies beside her thigh, and I turn it over and begin to kiss her palm. My lips open and I press my mouth to her palm and kiss it. I graze it with my teeth, then lick it with my tongue and begin to suck it, kiss it passionately until I feel forced to stop. I curl her fingers closed tenderly.

“I am placing my heart inside as a gift for you to take care of. Please take care of it as I love you very much.” I look up into her eyes. They are brimming with tears that run down her face.

“That is the only thing I ever wanted from you,” she says. “You think you are going to lay siege to my heart, but I have been laying siege to your heart since first I saw you. It is all I want. I will never let it go. I will keep it now forever. It is mine now.” And she closes her hand tightly.

And she moves to kiss my lips and her body presses against mine. Her mouth opens to me and her tongue touches my lips and my tongue finds hers and explores her mouth carefully, slowly. But she won’t have it that way. She moves her mouth harder against mine until I give up and hold her tightly kissing her with all the abandon I feel. She whimpers and then moans and I cannot imagine stopping now. My hands seek her breasts, her nipples and then my mouth begins to move lower on her as my hands explore her stomach. Her breath gasps and I move still lower until I am at her center which is melting hot and very wet.

“Please,” she says, “please.”

Her hand is still in a fist, still holding my heart. I try to loosen her fingers but she won’t allow it. Her other hand moves to my hair and she seizes it, pulling my face towards her.

I put one finger in her and she writhes, twisting her body. She is slippery and wet with desire and so I remove all my covers, pull her close and begin to enter her.

“I am afraid I will hurt you,” I say.

“No. No. You will not. I am not a doll. You will not break me. I promise, I promise. Just. Please. Do not stop. Please don’t stop.”

I enter deeper until I reach her membrane and then I say, “I am afraid this will hurt.”

“It doesn’t matter. Just please don’t stop.” And she thrusts her hips at me until I am undone and push suddenly and hard and I am through.

“Oh, god,” she says. “How wonderful. I can’t believe how you feel in me.” And she begins to pant, pasting herself to me then pulling away then rushing back into my arms so hard my breath hitches. I hold her so tight. Then I begin to move in her and she moans aloud and I think she will scream.

“Yes,” she says, “yes yes yes!” And now she is trembling uncontrollably, all control gone, lost forever, as she kisses me wildly, rubbing herself all over me, and crying and moaning, “Yes yes yes more more more.”

And then I realize what she wants. For me to take her like an animal. To be a beast and pound all the holding back of her life from her. To relieve her of all the pressure of conformity, of behaving perfectly, of denying herself all her feelings and spontaneity.  She begins to scream and she becomes something wild and untamed and I am delirious with surprise and joy, not knowing who this woman is.

She reaches the edge and I touch her clit, rubbing it in circles and she convulses and goes over the edge screaming my name over and over and I just let go of all of me and fill her and fill her until I am dripping out of her, and I take my semen and rub it all over her body and then begin to lick it off her. She looks at me with black eyes, breathing like a foundering animal and I kiss her tenderly, hold her face in my hands and say, “I love you. I love you. I love only you.” And then I wrap my arms around her, pull the covers up and hold her so tight even her dreams will have no room to reach her.

“You are mine,” I say. “No one else will ever touch you. I will kill anyone who tries. And I will never want anyone but you ever again.” 

Chapter 7:Georges Proposes:Georges Du Roy and Lily Bart:Bel Ami and House of Mirth

Yellow Diamond

__________________________________________________________________________________

“Lily, stop this! Stop right now! Please, please, stop! Now! I surrender! I surrender! You have all the power. All of it. You can make me the happiest man on earth or you can destroy me by saying no. I can’t go on with this charade any longer. You stalemate me at every turn. Marry me, marry me, please, please, please marry me. I will give you anything you want. I will make you happy. I love you beyond belief. Please, please say yes.”

She has put her hand to her throat. Her face is astonished and horrified. For the first time since I have met her she can say nothing, do nothing but stand there, struck dumb. She sits down in the chair. I fall to my knees in front of her and grasp her hand.

I notice how quiet it is, how all the murmuring has stopped. Lily’s eyes are darting left and right now. I see that everyone near us has stopped. They are not talking. They are just standing there looking at us. And now I know. Lily is ruined. I have made such a scene that she will be blamed for this scene for the rest of her life. She will be damned forever having let me get this far, this close to her to compromise her reputation.

I don’t care. This is good. Now she will have to say yes. She cannot go back to her life with this ghastly occurrence that will be talked about for two hundred years! Yes, she is ruined. I am delirious with gratitude for these miniscule minds that would blame her for what I have created. I want to kiss their feet.

Lily holds out her palm to quiet me but it is too late. “No, Lily,” I say, “I don’t care what they think. I don’t care what all of them think. The only person whose thinking or feelings I care about are yours. Yours, only yours. You are the only important person to me in this huge crowd of people. You are the only person here for me.

Lily shudders. Her face is white and she is still speechless. For once, she is speechless. She cannot even move.

“Lily, Lily, please listen to me. Please. Listen to me. None of these people matter. They cannot hurt you. They cannot even take up the tiniest space in my mind. My mind only has room for you. Please, please give me your answer. Now. I don’t want you to have time to think about it. Not any more. Tell me now,” I command her.

I look up at her. In the corner of my eye I see Selden standing there with her wrap, wishing he could disappear, just drop her wrap on the floor and melt into the stones of the terrace. “Lily,” I say. “Now. Tell me, yes or not. Now.”

Her eyes look around and she sees nothing but incomprehension and absolute horror. She looks at me, full in the face, deep into my eyes and whispers, “Yes, yes, yes I will. And then louder, “Yes.”

I am radiant with joy. I grasp a small box from my pocket, pull out the ring, and I don’t even give her time to look at it as I put it on her finger. It is huge and ugly. An eight carat diamond, with ruby baguettes on each side from Tiffany’s.

“Yes.” I say. “I know it is ostentatious. Worse than ostentatious. It is obscene. Over the border into the land of the vulgar. It is exactly what I wanted.” Lily is looking at it on her hand with dismay on her face.

“When we get to Paris we both will go get another one. A beautiful one that you will pick out. We can throw this one in the Seine. Drown it. These people wouldn’t know what a beautiful ring looks like if they saw one. I know these people because I used to be just like them. You have changed me utterly. I do not even recognize myself anymore. The only thing they know is how much it is worth by looking at its size. I wanted them to see just how much I worship you, how much you mean to me, because to them, that’s what an engagement ring signifies. How much you are loved by how big the diamond is. I want to silence their tongues permanently.

I never want you to have to consider them again, all their foolish, simpering, stupid thoughts, perceptions and comments that you so carefully rephrase to sound intelligent, to make them feel important. They are not important. You are important. You are important and precious to me. You are all I care about in this pompous miserable copy of what they think is a Parisian court from Louis the XV or XVI at Versailles.”

“And it is no better where we are going. Even worse. But I will have you and that will make all the difference. Let us go now. We can take a carriage ride around the park, and I can calm down, and you can begin to breathe again. We will sail as soon as I can book passage. The Captain of the ship can marry us as soon as we are in international waters. Unless you want to stay to plan a big wedding here for these fools. I will do what you want.” Lily shakes her head. “Come. Take my arm and flash your diamond in their eyes.”

I pull her up, she takes my arm, and we walk from the terrace into the room. Bertha Dorset stands near the door and Lily walks up to her and says, “Dear Mrs. Dorset, we shall be leaving now. It has been an eventful and joyous evening for me that I will remember all my life. Thank you so much for inviting us. Goodnight and again thank you for the most unimaginable, wonderful evening of my life.” She gives her her hand, the one with the ring on it, and touches her goodbye.

And with immense grace she walks out the door, her head high on her slender neck, her eyes straight ahead into the dark, where I see a carriage and hail it.

She is my beautiful, my perfect Lily.

Chapter 6:Du Roy Ready to Propose:Georges Du Roy and Lily Bart:Bel Ami and House of Mirth

Georges Du Roy

I’m watching her out there on the terrace with Selden. I look at the way they stand with each other facing the soon to be setting sun. I hope it sets on them very soon.

They do like each other, but he does not love her enough. He loves her the way Linton loved Cathy. However, she is not a Cathy, and I love her about the way he does. The way bookish Linton loved Cathy. Only I have assets, so my less than torrid romantic interest in her is acceptable and proper. Since he has nothing, he needs to have a passion for her, which he does not.  She is talking earnestly to him. I wonder if she is talking about me.

I see Rosedale starting out to greet her. She turns disinterestedly towards him, but he pretends not to notice. She nods to him about something and he comes back into the room.

I plan to go out on the terrace and propose to her. I intend to listen to her story ending choice first. If she ends it with a no, then I am prepared to soothe and reassure her; to convince her otherwise, which I am sure I can do. If she has chosen the yes ending, then the deal is closed.

It’s time, I say to myself, and I start out there. She sees me before I am too close to the terrace to surprise her. Her face is friendly as I walk up to her. “Mademoiselle Bart”, I say, picking up her hand to kiss it lightly but with my mouth open on her skin. She smells lovely. She smiles and greets me, “Baron Du Roy,” she nods. She turns to Selden and says, “I think it is getting chilly now that the sun is setting. May I please ask you for a favor?”

“Of course,” he says.

“My fluffy pink feather wrap is back in there. Would you find it for me and bring it to me, please?” Selden nods and leaves the terrace leaving Lily and me alone. 

“I received your letter this morning and I have read your story, both parts. It’s charming. Thank you for asking my advice on which ending. You’re under no obligation to use my choice, however,” she smiles.

Lily is unusually  direct. This means she has given this some serious thought.

I bow to her, raising my one eyebrow and ask, “Which one did you liked the best?” This confuses her as she has expected my using the word choose.  

“Hmmmm. It was difficult to choose. Actually I started writing  my own.”

“C’est vrai?” I respond.

“Oui,” she answers me in French.

Returning to English she puzzles her face a little and says, "I also had two endings in mind. Perhaps a little more complex than yours, I think. But that seems to be the way women are."

“In one she is thinking of saying no. Her reason is the interesting part. She is really very attracted to him, but she has observed things about him that puzzle her. He is handsome, rich, titled and very charming. He has perfect manners, but they seem to her to have an artificial veneer. They are almost, but not quite natural, as if he has studied manners and their perfect practice. His behavior is well, not quite orthodox, a little spontaneous. This makes her uneasy as she will be traveling to China with him if she agrees to marry him, and she has no friends there, no one to go to if her situation becomes uncomfortable. Simply put, she fears him enough to be wary about falling into his power. This would happen to her if she says yes. She wants to but she is equally afraid, so I have left the ending ambiguous, ending before she finally decides and chooses. She is saying no to herself at this point but really wants to say yes.

“The second one she is thinking of saying yes. She is aware that she will live with him in a foreign country, which is unsettling, but she has arranged her reply to  acknowledge the honor he has paid her by asking her to be his wife. She replies by telling him this, saying that she understands he wishes a wife who will keep order in his house, have superb aesthetic taste in furnishing it, in arranging social affairs, ensuring his name and reputation will continue to be spotless. She also adds that she has come to this decision not only for the security it offers her, her ability to know what he wishes her to be for him, but primarily because she yearns for this little boy who has been without a mother all his life. In this way she intends to structure the relationship to be compatible for herself and for him. So she has stressed the contractual obligations, but has softened this with her concern for the child. She has also masked her attraction to him.

She has watched my expression the entire time she has been talking.

I am ready to kill her. I am also ready to throw her on the terrace stones and ravish her.

She has upped the stakes to Double or Quits. She has managed to say no while implying yes, and she has managed to say yes while implying that she will acquiesce to conjugal embraces without passion. I am completely out maneuvered. If she says no I will not be able to convince her, as the more attraction she feels, the more likely she will be to say no. Now I must propose without any advance knowing. How did she manage to do this. She has thrown another blasted obstacle into this strategy of mine. The situation is identical to my first meeting with Madeleine. My writing edited and made superior by this slip of a woman who has never written professionally, who is going to be a cool and careful wife – partner. All her affection and love and tenderness will go to my son. I do not want another Madeleine.

She will always do this. I will never get the best of her. She is just too intuitively intelligent. This is why she has never married. She has done this to every last one of them. What in God’s name does she want?

And at this moment while gazing at her, I realize I have fallen hopelessly in love with her, that I am completely in love with her, completely in her power, and I love her with the ferocity that Heathcliff loves Cathy.

What a beastly dilemma. This is not what I had planned at all. Now I must have her, and I must win her heart after we are married. Very well, I will do that.

I still want to kill her.

Chapter 5:Baron Du Roy Is Outfoxed Again:Georges Du Roy and Lily BartBel Ami and House of Mirth

Whistler - Head - Symphony In White

I see Bertha Dorset leave Lily and I approach her hoping to surprise her. She turns just as I am almost to her and smiles. Did she feel me coming with an eye in the back of her head? How does she always know when I am stalking her?

I take her hand to place my lips on her palm this time, and say, “At last the evening takes on new pleasure for me since you are here. I have been waiting to see you.”

“And I was just wondering where you were this evening, just a few moments ago. You must have read my mind,” and she laughs lightly and softly.

“I want to ask you if I may engage you for the first dance this evening?”

She has turned to catch someone’s eye and then she turns back to me saying, “I am so flattered that you asked me, but I am not dancing this evening. I turned my ankle a bit today and I would like to rest it, but I see Miss Lucinda Wetherall coming this way. A lovely young girl who made her debut last year. I am sure she will more than perfectly take my place in the dance for you.”

“Lucinda, please come over here and say hello to me. I have not seen you since your  beautiful debut this past year. Please allow me to present the Baron Du Roy de Cantel from Paris. He has noticed you and is desirous of a dance partner, is not that true Baron Du Roy? Baron Du Roy, may I present Miss Lucinda Wetherall.

Curses. How did she do that!  Now I cannot do otherwise than dance with this pretty doll without seeming totally ignorant and gauche. I bow over her hand and say, “Mademoiselle Wetherall, I am most pleased to meet you. May I please have the honor of this dance?” I pray she will say no.

“Why, I would be delighted Baron. It would be an honor for me also.”

I lead her to the dance floor after I tuck her hand in my arm, and I curse Lily to the bottom pits of hell for this. 

Chapter 4:Bertha Dorset's Dance:Georges Du Roy and Lily Bart:Bel Ami and House of Mirth

Louise Bourgeois - To Unravel a Torment

Bertha Dorset was holding an informal supper and dance. She was forced to invite Lily Bart because she wanted the Duchess and Baron Du Roy to attend. She had been furious but was now over it and looking forward to her great success in getting these two people to come to her social event. She would take care of Lily in the near future when the Duchess and the Baron had returned to their travels.

The evening is festive, but not crowded, more an intimate gathering in honor of the two celebrities from Europe. There are a number of last year’s debutantes that have been invited to  be presented to the Baron. Bertha hopes to be a matchmaker for one of them, to assure her a place in the society of Paris. A grateful girl will welcome her to her new place in the future.

“Lily, I would like to ask you a favor,” she requests.

“Of course, Bertha, what can I do for you?” says Lily.

“Well I would like you to advance a few of the younger women to ensure that the Baron notices them.”

Lily laughs saying, “Of course. I already promised Amelia that I would do so.”

So she calls the Duchess Amelia, does she, thought Bertha.

“Then I can count on you?”

“Absolutely,” replies Lily. “Consider it done. I have my eye on Lucinda Wetherall. What do you think?”

“Oh, she would be perfect. She is lovely and such an accomplished pianist, I know she will charm him.”

“Good. We are in agreement then, but I shall introduce him to the others so it will not look too contrived.”

“Oh, Lily, you are so good at all this. We have missed you lately. Don’t stay away so much,” Bertha says as she turns away to greet a new arrival.

 I think if I can manage this, all will be well for me, thinks Lily.

Chapter 3 - Georges Du Roy Meets Lily Bart: Du Roy and Lily Bart: Bel Ami and House of Mirth

Lily - Georgia O'Keeffe

The informal gathering at Mrs. Trenor’s that evening was a familiar social gathering for Lily. She arrived with Amelia and Lady Skiddaw and they entered together.

“Why Lily,” said Mrs. Trenor. “Where have you been keeping yourself since you returned from Monaco? We have missed you, and she kissed each of her cheeks in welcome.”

“My Aunt, Mrs. Peniston, has not been well, and I have been attending to her, that’s all. But here I am and so happy to see you.”

Soon people were conversing, mixing with each other, partaking of tidbits of food and listening to the music and Lily began to feel that maybe Amelia was right, that being here was all that was needed to dispel the ugly stories spread by Bertha Dorset.

Wearing a bias cut pale rose silk gown, with a deep scalloped neckline, Lily looked more wonderful than anyone else in the room, as usual. Her head high on her slender neck, her eyes bright with contentment at being there, she was ready to forgive all for their  shunning of her.

I walk in the door and look around for the Duchess hoping to see Lily Bart with her. And then I see Lily, as she is the only one in the room. My god, she is beautiful, tall, slender, her hair piled high, lovely white face, arms, shoulders. Yes, Amelia was exactly right. I would not hesitate to ask her right this minute, book passage and take her away. Perfect.

The Duchess sees me and glances at Lily. I nod to let her know I have already seen and to indicate that she was correct. I am grateful to her for enticing me here. She comes to my side, introduces me to her hostess, then says, “There is someone I want you to meet.” We both know who that is.

She arrives at Lily’s side after greeting a number of people on the way, and she touches Lily’s arm and says, “Lily, I have been wanting you to meet a friend of mine from Paris, the Baron Du Roy of Cantel”

I bow to Lily, take her hand, and kiss her skin with open lips. The barest touch of the tip of my tongue licks her. I immediately look into her eyes and I see that her pupils have dilated. Excellent, I think, excellent.

Her face gives nothing away, her eyes cool, polite, friendly, warm, her mouth and face the same, and I say to her,

“Mademoiselle Bart, you are beautiful and incomparable, graceful and perfect. There has been no exaggeration of your loveliness.”

She replies, “Your exceeding charm has been greatly underestimated.”

She has mirrored me. And precisely. I am surprised.  Her voice is beautifully modulated.  She is perceptive, intelligent, well the adjectives would flow but are not necessary.

Already I am enchanted with her. 

Chapter 2: The Duchess Conspires-Lily Bart and Georges Du Roy - Bel Ami and House of Mirth

Louise Bourgeois - Red Flowers

“Lily, I am so glad you could come. Lady Skiddaw and I would like to spend as much time with you as possible while we are here. Are you going to be free enough for that?”

“Since I got back from Monte Carlo I have all the free time in the world, Duchess. Or haven’t you heard the news?”

“Amelia, please. My title is only for those fogies to whom it is so important. Not for my friends. Yes, I did hear, but it will blow over and things will get back to normal for you. Actually I hope they don’t but that is for our next topic of conversation.”

“I think not. Bertha Dorset seems intent on ruining me. She imagines things until she believes they are true.”

“Well, no one believes her, certainly?”

“No, but she has all the money and power over the social network here, and I have none. They can’t afford to displease her.”

“When I am here, if they want me, they will have to have you. By the time my visit is over, you will be integrated back in their set, and she will have to plan something else.  I see you are laughing Lily.Does that mean you agree with me?”

“Not at all, but we will see, won’t we? Where shall we go tonight? I had some ideas, but what are yours?”

Mrs. Trenor invited Lady Skiddaw and myself to a small intimate party she is having. I told her we were already engaged with you and that I would check with you to see if you could reschedule. She immediately asked me to bring you, by all means. See how it works! Voila! I also mentioned Baron Du Roy is here and wishes to meet some English women. But he is here to meet you and marry you, Lily.”

“Oh, Amelia,” Lily laughs. “I’ve never met him. How could he want that. He knows nothing about me. What happened to all the beauties in Paris? Did they all disappear?” And Lily laughs softly again.

“My dear, he does not need to know anything about you. He knows me, and that is all that is needed. I told him about you and he decided to come to New York with me to meet you.  Don’t look so astonished. He is looking for a wife. His young wife died in childbirth almost three years ago, and he has a young child, a boy, who has never had a mother. He, for some reason I don’t know, prefers to find an English speaking woman for himself and his son.”

“Really, Amelia, you can’t mean this.”

“But I do. He is here now, staying at my hotel. He is titled, very, very rich, very handsome, is the editor of the largest most influential newspaper in all of Paris, La Vie Francaise, an accomplished political journalist, author of some short stories, is working on a novel, and his son is heir to the Walter fortune – Walter owns the newspaper and he was married to his daughter “

“He certainly sounds very busy. Where can he find the time to find a wife and marry?’ laughs Lily.

“You may laugh, Lily, but there are many people who take me far more seriously than you do.” Amelia puts on a pouting face and Lily laughs again.

“I will certainly meet your Baron and help him find a more suitable choice than I.”

“Oh, Lily, you foolish girl. He is perfect for you. Why wouldn’t you want to marry him?”

“Well, that’s hard to say since I’ve never laid eyes on him.”

“You will tonight. I have told him he must come to meet you there. So that’s that. I want you to dress lovely, but then you always do anyway, so just prepare yourself to greet him without any prior judgments, will you please?”

“I will,” says Lily, “I will.”